


Catalyst

by niniblack



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Canon levels of obliviousness from Damen, Fluff, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lab Partners, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8569393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblack
Summary: In which Damen makes a drunken bet that he can get into Laurent’s pants before winter break, and doesn’t expect to fall in love along the way.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this fic, Laurent is a freshman, Damen and Nikandros are seniors, and Makedon has been de-aged enough that it's not weird to have him hanging around college parties.
> 
> This will be five chapters. I'm working on finishing the last one and editing the others, so I'm hoping for roughly weekly to bi-weekly updates. (The other chapters are much longer, I promise!)
> 
> Thanks to [TurtleTotem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/) and [Ending Themes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/endingthemes) for the beta and helping to make Laurent the ice cold bitch we all know and love.

The whole thing starts with drinking, as most bad decisions in Damen’s life do. More specifically, drinking with Nikandros and Makedon. And even more specifically, drinking with Nikandros and Makedon while complaining about his uptight lab partner, Laurent, who looks at Damen like he’s something nasty found on the bottom of a shoe.

“He keeps doing all the work,” Damen complains, before taking another long drink of his beer. It’s number five, or possibly six, and Damen is just starting to go from tipsy to drunk, the room beginning to spin a bit but in a pleasant way.

“Why is that a bad thing?” Nik asks.

“Because…” Damen tries to remember why it’s a bad thing. “It just is.”

“I mean,” Nik says, “that sounds like a pretty sweet deal. Just sit back and let the little know-it-all do all the work and collect the good grade.”

“But he gives me this _look_ when he does it,” Damen tries to explain. “Like I’m the stupidest person in the world.” Which is the nicest way to describe the way the Laurent treats him. The reality is that Laurent acts like Damen isn’t even there most of the time, and when he does deign to speak with him, it’s things like ‘Can you handle turning on the flame? Do you need a demonstration? See, you turn the knob like this and then the fire starts...’ or ‘Hand me the flask. No, you idiot, the _flask_. This is a beaker. Honestly how did you even make it into this class.’ Then Laurent insists on doing all the homework himself because Damen would do it wrong, all while complaining about Damen not doing his fair share. It’s infuriating.

What makes it even more infuriating is that Laurent is gorgeous. He’s got long, light blonde hair that he pulls back into a messy ponytail during labs. A couple strands always escape and Laurent spends the labs trying to blow the strands out of his bright blue eyes. Eyes that would be gorgeous if they weren’t always narrowed in annoyance at Damen.

He must have actually said some that out loud, because Nik sighs loudly and mutters, “Of course he’s blonde.”

Makedon looks like a thought is dawning on him. It takes awhile for him to form it into words. “Wait, is this the guy I saw you with last week?”

Damen nods. “He was lecturing me about not getting the lab homework done.”

Makedon whistles. “He's a hot piece of ass though. You should hit that.”

“Maybe it'd make him relax,” Nik says.

“Ha,” Damen says. “He’d probably spend the entire time telling whoever it was that they were doing it wrong, and that’s if he even let them into his bed. I’m pretty sure he’s some sort of frigid virgin.”

“So, you’re not up to the challenge then?” Makedon asks.

“What?” Damen asks.

Both his friends have downright devious smiles on their face. 

“I thought you liked a challenge, Damianos,” Nik says.

“I’m not fucking Laurent,” Damen says. He slams his beer down on the table to emphasize this.

Nik shrugs. “I mean, if you don’t think you can…”

“Of course I _can_ ,” Damen says.

“Prove it,” Makedon says. “Fuck him before the end of semester.”

“Why should I?”

“What, you need a reward for proving you can fuck your lab partner? Me not telling everyone that you failed should be reward enough.”

Damen just stares at him, maintaining eye contact as he takes another drink.

“Fine,” Nik says. “You can borrow my Mustang.”

This is a better offer than Damen was expecting. Nikandros drives a vintage mustang that he’d spent three summer breaks restoring. It’s a beautiful car, and the chance to drive it is tempting. “For how long?” Damen asks.

“A week.”

Damen shakes his head. “All next semester.”

Nik looks torn, but Makedon tells him to come on and Nik eventually nods. “Fine, next semester. But you better bring back some proof that you fucked him.”

“I’m not filming it,” Damen tells him.

“Like we want to watch you having sex,” Makedon says. “No, bring us back a pair of his panties.”

Nik snorts into his beer.

“Fine,” Damen says. “Just wait, that car’s gonna be mine.”

Which is how Damen winds up trying to get into Laurent de Vere’s pants. A task which turns out to be harder than he anticipated.


	2. September

Damen wasn’t lying about how Laurent treats him during labs. It rankles even more because Laurent is just a freshman while Damen is a senior, albeit one who hadn’t yet completed his science pre-reqs. They have a lecture component as well as the labs, and normally Damen avoids Laurent during these classes, leaving Laurent to sit on his own across the room.

The first day after his bet with Nikandros, Damen sits down next to Laurent.

Laurent looks up at him, surprised for a moment before he schools his features back into his normal calculating stare. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Learning,” Damen says, opening his notebook and taking out a pen.

Laurent already has his own notebook open, half a page filled with notes from the last class. His handwriting is pretty, Damen thinks; a looping cursive full of flourishes. There’s a doodle in the corner, not of anything in particular but a combination of shapes and curves.

Laurent pulls his notebook closer. “You haven’t had any interest in paying attention in class yet this semester.”

Which is true. Damen usually spends the lecture playing tetris on his phone under the desk.

“I’ve realized the error of my ways,” Damen says. “I’m here to listen attentively and learn all there is to know about organic chemistry.”

Laurent doesn’t roll his eyes, but looks like he wants to. He leans slightly to the side, trying to avoid brushing against Damen’s arm with the tightly spaced desks. “I’m not taking your notes for you,” he says.

Damen just smiles at him.

\---

The next day in their lab class Laurent starts ordering Damen around again like his personal science slave. Normally Damen would complain and refuse to help, but this time he takes a deep breath and a long look at Laurent’s ass -- it’s a rather nice ass, really -- and asks, “What else do you need?”

Laurent raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know what the assignment is?”

Damen had spent an hour last night reviewing what they’re supposed to be testing today, so he’s prepared for the first time this semester and says, “Yes. We’re testing chromatography to separate amino acids.”

The flicker of surprise on Laurent’s face is gone so quickly that Damen’s not sure it was even there. Finally Laurent says, “You can mark the paper. But don’t touch it, you’ll ruin the results if you do. And use a pencil, not a pen.”

Damen does as he’s told.

Laurent doesn’t let him help with actually placing the samples on the paper, but does let him help roll the paper up before they place it in the beaker. Once that’s done they’re left with an hour of waiting for the paper to develop. This is normally the part of a lab where Damen wanders out to the vending machine and bothers all his friends with texts because he’s bored, but this time he hangs around as Laurent pulls out a textbook for another class.

“What are you working on?” Damen asks.

“Why do you care?” Laurent asks, not even looking up from his textbook.

Damen tries to angle his head to read what’s on the page. “Is that psychology? Are you a psych major?”

Laurent sighs and looks up at Damen, drawing back a bit when he realizes how close Damen has leaned in. “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?”

“I’m curious,” Damen says, putting on his best smile. It’s the smile that usually has both girls and boys falling over themselves.

Laurent just looks annoyed. “I’m majoring in political science. Which, yes, involves taking psychology classes.”

“Why poli sci?”

“Why the sudden interest?”

Damen shrugs. “Well, we’re lab partners. I figure we ought to try and get along.” He smiles again. “We could be friends, right?”

“You want to be friends?” Laurent asks, slowly, like he’s testing it out.

“Sure,” Damen says.

Laurent acts like he’s thinking it over for a moment, then says, “I don’t really need a senior who was stupid enough to get himself stuck in freshman classes as a friend. I have better things to do than let than you mooch off me for a better grade.”

Damen sighs. He doesn’t know why he thought this was going to be easy.

\---

The next class goes the same, with Laurent looking down his nose at him but accepting the help in the lab once Damen proves he’s done the reading and knows what to do. Nikandros comments that he’s never seen Damen study so hard for any class, much less one outside his major.

They get an assignment to write up their experiments, results, and a list of discussion topics that they’re to write no less than three pages on. Damen reads it over, then turns to Laurent, who he’s sitting next to again.

“Hey, do you want to work together on this?”

He must have caught Laurent unaware, because he actually looks surprised for a moment. The expression is gone quickly enough that Damen thinks he might have imagined it. “What?”

Damen waves the paper with the assignment on it. “I just thought, it’d probably go faster if we work together.”

Laurent’s eyes narrow. “You mean it would go faster for you, because I’d do all the work and you’d copy it.”

Damen just barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “That is not what I meant. I’m trying to pass this class too, you know? I just thought we could work together. We’re _supposed_ to be partners.”

Laurent still looks wary. “Is this you trying to be friends again?”

“Is that so bad?” Damen asks.

“You’re an idiot,” Laurent says. “Why would I want to be friends with you?”

“Because I’m an idiot who wants to be friends with _you_.”

Laurent doesn’t talk to him for the rest of class, taking notes on the lecture. It’s not until they’re packing up their stuff and Laurent has stood up, swinging his satchel over one shoulder, that he says, “Meet me in the library at eleven tomorrow.”

Damen, who honestly wasn’t expecting that, doesn’t have time to formulate a reply before Laurent is walking away.

\---

Damen finds Laurent on the top floor of the library; the floor that's designated as a ‘quiet zone’. Laurent clearly hasn't noticed him approaching, so Damen takes the opportunity to lean in close from behind him and whisper, “How are we supposed to talk up here?”

Laurent jerks in his chair, nearly sending it flying backwards before Damen grabs hold of it and sets it back to right.

Laurent’s glaring at him. “Wear a bell next time.”

“Sorry,” Damen says with a shrug. He flops into the chair next to Laurent. “Seriously though, we should go downstairs so we can talk.”

As if to prove his point, a girl at the next table over turns around to hiss at them to be quiet.

Laurent slams his book shut. “Come on, since apparently you're a brute who can't use an indoor voice.”

Damen tries to help Laurent carry his books and gets a glare in response. He follows silently while they go downstairs and Laurent searches for a suitable table, rejecting the first two empty ones for no reason Damen can discern.

He’s about ready to call it quits on this bet. Nothing is worth trying to make nice with Laurent.

Except that car. That’s totally worth it. The sex will probably be nice too, if just because he’s certain that Laurent will look amazing spread out beneath him.

Oddly enough, Laurent proves to be a good study partner. Damen asks questions and Laurent always seems to know the answer, and is good at explaining it, even if he does always look at Damen like he’s an idiot for not already knowing the answer.

After the fifth time Laurent gives him that look, Damen throws down his pen and says, “Would you stop acting like I’m stupid? I may not know much chemistry, but I bet I could run circles around you in anatomy and physiology.”

Laurent looks taken aback. After a brief pause he asks, “Is that what you’re majoring in?”

“Sort of,” Damen says. “I want to be a personal trainer. There’s a lot involved to get a degree in it.”

Laurent’s eyes drop, scanning up and down Damen’s body, and Damen bites back a smirk. When Laurent meets his eyes again there’s just the slightest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“I didn’t know that was a degree program,” Laurent says.

Damen shrugs. He picks his pen back up, looking down at the textbook. “It’s more than just working out,” he says. “We should probably finish this up.”

Laurent is still watching him, like he doesn’t quite know what to make of Damen.

Damen’s counting the lack of glaring as progress.

\---

They keep studying together, but after another week Damen still hasn’t even gotten a hint of a smile out of Laurent. 

He’s going to have to try harder.

As they’re finishing up one day, Damen asks, “Hey, what are you doing after this?”

Laurent eyes him suspiciously. “Why?”

“Let me buy you a coffee.”

Laurent’s expression doesn’t change. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been helping me a lot with this class,” Damen says, “and the least I can do is buy you a coffee to thank you for it. Or do you not drink coffee?”

“I drink coffee,” Laurent says.

“Great,” Damen says. “There’s a place just a few blocks away.”

“There’s a Starbucks downstairs,” Laurent points out.

“This is much better than anything Starbucks serves,” Damen promises.

He offers to carry some of Laurent’s books, and Laurent lets him for the first time, handing them over and warning Damen not to drop them or damage them in any way. When they get to the coffee shop he tells Laurent to find a good table while he gets drinks.

“What do you want?” he asks.

Laurent looks up at the menu. “A latte is fine.”

“Flavor?”

“Plain,” Laurent says. “With almond milk.”

Damen orders himself a caramel macchiato, and waits at the counter for their drinks. When he finally turns to carry them over to the table, he finds that Laurent has chosen a booth in the back corner, and is looking at something on his phone.

“Thank you,” Laurent says, after Damen hands him his latte.

“No problem,” Damen says. The coffees are still too hot to drink, and Laurent pulls the lid off his and blows on it a bit.

“So what do you when you’re not studying?” Damen asks. “You must do something for fun.”

“I work at the bookstore,” Laurent says.

“You do?” Damen perks at the mention of something new. So far trying to get Laurent talking has been like pulling teeth.

“I’m trying to save enough money to rent a place for summer break.”

Damen wonders why he doesn’t just go home for breaks, where he can presumably stay for free, and save the money for other things, but decides it’s not worth asking about. “Okay,” he says. “That’s not fun though.”

“Define _fun_ ,” Laurent tells him.

“You know, something you enjoy doing.”

“I enjoy reading,” Laurent says. He takes a careful sip of his coffee, and apparently deems it cooled enough because he takes a larger sip. It leaves a bit of foam on his top lip until he licks it off.

Damen tries to remember what they’d been talking about. Reading, right. Laurent likes to read. Laurent reads and works in the bookstore and doesn’t go home for breaks and is the worst conversationalist Damen has ever met.

“Do you just read textbooks?” Damen asks.

“No,” Laurent says. “I read fiction too.” 

“I wrestle,” Damen tells him. “We have a match this weekend, actually. You should come.” He flashes his best smile.

Damen takes a moment to savor the look of surprise on Laurent’s face. He takes a sip of his coffee to hide his grin.

“You want me to come watch you wrestle?” Laurent asks, slowly, like he’s unsure of it.

“Sure,” Damen says. “It’s always nice to have someone in the crowd cheering you on.”

“I’m not going to be your cheerleader.”

“It’s just nice to have friends there,” Damen amends.

This time, Laurent doesn’t insist that they’re not friends. Damen counts it as progress.

Damen grabs a napkin and pulls out a pen from his bag. “Here, this is the time and place. I’m competing in the heavyweight class. We usually go third.”

Laurent takes the napkin and looks at it for a moment before tucking it into the cover of one of his books. “I’ll have to see if I have anything else going on,” he says.

\---

That Saturday, Damen is in the locker room warming up when he gets a text from Nikandros. _pretty boy is here_ , it says.

_He came?_ Damen texts back.

_he’s sitting by himself two rows down_ , Nikandros texts back.

_Don’t go say hi_ , Damen warns. _I’m finally making progress don’t want you to fuck it up._ He adds a thumbs up emoji.

Nikandros texts him back an eggplant and a peach.

Damen sends him a car emoji back.

After the match, which Damen wins, he jogs over to the stands and waves at Laurent. “Hey! You made it.”

Laurent makes his way down the bleachers carefully, watching his feet, and Damen takes a moment to appreciate how his hair falls down over his face, brushing his shoulders; he usually has it pulled back in chem class. Laurent stops on the last step. It makes him just slightly taller than Damen, and looking up at someone is enough of a novelty that Damen finds himself smiling. “I wasn’t sure you would come,” Damen says.

Laurent flashes him a tight smile. “Yes, well, I didn’t have anything else going on, as it turns out.” He’s looking Damen up and down, and Damen knows that his wrestling uniform shows everything. When Laurent finally meets his eyes again, Damen smirks at him.

Laurent actually blushes a bit, before swallowing hard and saying, “You did rather well.”

“Thanks,” Damen says. “So, I have to go shower, but do you want to grab dinner after?”

“Dinner,” Laurent says, not quite a question.

“Yeah, you know, that meal you eat in the evening.”

“I know what dinner is.” There’s a long pause before Laurent says, “Okay.” The way he’s looking at Damen is the same way he looks at their experiments in chem lab -- like he’s trying to solve a riddle.

\---

Damen takes Laurent to his favorite restaurant for dinner. Laurent actually takes Damen’s advice about what to order, and he finally gets Laurent on a topic he’s enthusiastic about by asking about his reasons for majoring in political science.

“Do you want to be president?” Damen asks, over a plate of stuffed grape leaves.

Laurent takes one of the grape leaves and bites into it, chewing and swallowing before saying, “These are good. And no, at least I don’t think so. I do want to work in politics, but I need to go to law school first.”

“I could see you as a lawyer,” Damen tells him.

Laurent raises his eyebrows. “Oh?” he asks. It’s a bit of a challenge.

“Well, you like to argue about everything. And you always act like you’re right even when you’re not,” Damen says.

“I don’t have to act,” Laurent says. “I am always right.” He smirks before stealing another of Damen’s grape leaves.

Damen walks Laurent back to his dorm after dinner. They’ve fallen into easy conversation -- talking about Damen’s wrestling history and the debate club Laurent claims to have dominated in high school -- on the short walk there.

“Well, this is me,” Laurent says, when they get to the entrance.

“Don’t want me to walk you to your room?” Damen asks.

Laurent shakes his head. “You didn’t have to walk me back at all. I’d have been fine on my own.”

“I wanted to,” Damen says. He’s a bit surprised to find that it’s actually true. He knew going into this evening that he wasn’t going to be getting into Laurent’s pants yet, but he still finds himself wanting to spend time with him anyway. Maybe it’s the way Laurent has finally started loosening up. He doesn’t glare at Damen all the time and the ordering him around has a bit of a playful edge to it now.

Laurent’s looking up at him with that same expression from earlier, like he’s trying to figure Damen out.

“I want to kiss you too,” Damen says, deciding to just go for it.

Laurent’s eyes widen and his mouth opens a bit in surprise. “You… what?”

Damen wonders if he’s gone too far, too soon. Laurent had been relaxed for possibly the first time since Damen’s met him, and now Damen can see the tension that’s returned to his posture, his back ramrod straight. “I just, um… it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to,” Laurent says.

Damen steps forward, and Laurent doesn't move away. He lifts a hand and runs it slowly along Laurent’s jaw, around to the back of his neck. The ends of Laurent’s hair tickle at the back of his hand, and the bare skin of his neck is warm. Damen pulls him forward a bit, bending down at the same time that Laurent tilts his face up, and then their lips are meeting. Laurent closes his eyes at the last second.

It’s the chastest kiss Damen’s ever had, at least until Laurent parts his lips a bit and Damen can press in further, testing his tongue against Laurent’s lips. Laurent’s pulse is fluttering against his palm, and there’s a puff of breath against Damen’s lips before Laurent responds, deepening the kiss and sucking Damen’s bottom lip between his own. His hands have come up to rest against Damen’s chest, poised to push him away at any moment but instead just resting there.

There’s a bang from behind them and Laurent jerks away, spinning around towards the noise. Someone else has come out of the dorm, letting the door slam behind them.

Damen’s about to reach for Laurent again but Laurent takes a step back, away from him.

“I should go,” Laurent says. “I have... I have some chapters I need to read before class tomorrow.” There's a flush on his cheeks and he darts his tongue out, licking his lips.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Damen asks. His own skin feels flushed as well. He shouldn’t be feeling this way over a kiss, he thinks.

Laurent hesitates. “I have to work tomorrow,” he says, and Damen sighs in disappointment before Laurent adds, “But the evening shift is usually slow, and I’m the only one there, so if you wanted to stop by you could.”

Damen flashes him a bright smile. “I’ll be there.”

Laurent looks pleased, giving Damen a small smile back, then he steps toward the door. “I really should go. Goodnight, Damen.”

“‘Night,” Damen says.

After Laurent’s disappeared inside he turns to head back towards his own apartment, smiling a bit to himself.

The good feeling only lasts until he gets home, and is confronted with Nikandros, who doesn’t even wait for him to shut the door before asking, “So did you fuck him?”

Makedon, slouched on the couch with his usual beer in hand, laughs. “C’mon, let’s have some details.”

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Damen protests.

“Are you losing your touch?” Nik asks.

Makedon laughs again. “Give him a break, Nik. It’s the first time he’s found someone who didn’t immediately throw themselves at him.”

“I’ve got the whole semester,” Damen says. There’s a niggle of guilt as he says it. Laurent is actually pretty nice once you get to know him, and what started out as a funny bet is seeming less amusing the more time he spends with Laurent.

He pushes the guilt aside, reminding himself of the stakes of the bet. Driving Nikandros’ car around next semester is going to be awesome.


	3. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving!

Laurent’s behavior in chem class doesn’t change much, but during their next study session he leads Damen into one of the private rooms and then proceeds to push Damen down into one of the chairs and climb into his lap.

“This is new,” Damen says, hands automatically going to Laurent’s hips.

Laurent settles himself on Damen’s thighs. “Is that a complaint?” he asks, before running his fingers through Damen’s hair and tilting his face the direction he wants it. He leans down to kiss Damen before he can respond.

Damen has kissed Laurent several times by now, but this is the first time Laurent has initiated it. Damen kisses back, hands tightening on Laurent’s hips. When Laurent pulls back a bit, breath still warm on Damen’s face, Damen says, “No complaints here.”

“Good,” Laurent says, kissing him again.

\---

Damen’s taken to hanging around the bookstore when Laurent works evenings and taking him out for dinner after or just walking him home. As they’re walking one evening, Damen swings his arm over Laurent’s shoulders and says, “So Makedon and Nik are having a house party tonight. You want to come?”

“House party,” Laurent says, in that way of his that makes Damen unsure of whether or not it’s a question.

“Yeah, y’know, a party. In a house. My house, in particular.”

Laurent twists a bit so that he can glare up at Damen.

“There’ll be people and drinks and Nik’s friend who thinks he’s a DJ has a pretty good speaker setup.”

“I don’t drink,” Laurent says.

“Nobody’s going to force you to.”

That gets a raised eyebrow from Laurent, but all he says is, “Alright.”

“You’ll come?”

“I don’t have anything else planned.”

\---

Laurent arrives promptly at ten o’clock. The only other person there, aside from Damen, Nik, and Makedon, is Nik’s friend Pallas, who’s busy setting up his speaker system and leaving cords all over the floor.

“I thought you said this was a party,” Laurent says. “Aren’t you meant to have people here?”

Damen grins, and kisses him before pulling him inside. “They’ll be here. It’s still early.”

“You said it started at ten.”

“Yeah, but no one gets here at ten.”

Laurent’s brow furrows, creating a tiny line, and the beer Damen’s already had must be going to head a bit because it’s the cutest expression he’s seen Laurent make so far.

“Then why did you tell me to--” He breaks off when Damen leans down to kiss him on the forehead.

“Come on, we can go up to my room until people get here,” Damen says. He takes Laurent’s hand to pull him across the room. “Do you want a drink?”

“Water will be fine,” Laurent says.

Damen gets him a cup of water, then leads Laurent upstairs to his room. He shoves a pile of clothes off his desk chair and onto the floor then offers the chair to Laurent.

Laurent eyes the pile of clothes. “Are those clean?”

Damen grabs a shirt off the top of the pile and sniffs it. “Yeah.”

“Barbarian,” Laurent says.

Damen grins at him. Laurent takes a sip of his water.

“So what time do people actually arrive for a party that starts at ten?”

“Around eleven,” Damen says.

Laurent sets his water down on Damen’s desk and walks towards him. “So we have an hour.”

Damen sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to pull Laurent towards him. “I’m sure we can find something to do.”

\---

By the time they finally stop making out and go back downstairs, there are quite a few more people. Damen has invited his wrestling team, and Nikandros has apparently invited the entire soccer team as well.

“What’s my roommate doing here?” Laurent asks, when they get to the bottom of the stairs.

“Who?” Damen’s never met Laurent’s roommate, or even been inside Laurent’s dorm.

Laurent points, then his eyes widen and he quickly puts his hand down. “Now he’s coming over here.”

“Well, you were pointing at him.”

“That doesn’t mean I wanted to talk to him,” Laurent mutters back. Then he’s saying, “Hello Jord.”

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Laurent’s roommate, who’s apparently named Jord, asks.

“I was invited,” Laurent says.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Laurent says, an edge creeping into his voice.

Jord holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just didn’t think you hung out with anyone here.”

Damen holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m his boyfriend.”

Laurent turns to look at him, and Damen keeps his eyes on Jord, smiling.

Jord takes his hand. “I didn’t know he had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t--” Laurent tries to say.

“He does,” Damen says.

“Well, nice to meet you man. I’ll see you around,” Jord says. He claps Laurent on the shoulder, which seems to startle Laurent, and then heads towards the kitchen, presumably for another drink.

“Why did you say that?” Laurent asks.

“Say what?”

“That you’re my boyfriend.”

“Aren’t we?” Damen asks.

Laurent starts to say something, then stops.

“We’ve been dating for nearly a month,” Damen points out. “And I’m not seeing anybody else. Why? Are you?”

There’s a long pause before Laurent says, “No.”

“So I can be your boyfriend?”

Laurent’s still watching him closely, but says, “I suppose.”

\---

Damen spends a good portion of the night introducing Laurent to everyone at the party. At least, everyone he knows. There are more people here than he was expecting; some of them seem have just wandered in off the street when they saw the party going. Laurent’s looking a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing, and mutters to Damen, “There’s no way all these people are actually your friends.”

“Sure they are,” Damen says.

“Well, you don’t have to keep introducing me as your boyfriend.”

“But I want to.”

Laurent’s looking around the room rather than at Damen. He reaches for Damen’s half empty beer, wrapping his hand around the neck of the bottle and tugging it from Damen’s hand. His throat works in a way that’s really distracting as he takes a long drink.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” Damen says.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Laurent tells him. He finishes off the rest of the beer and hands Damen back the empty bottle. “Get me another one.”

Damen leaves Laurent alone to go get them each another drink, and when he returns it’s to find Makedon with his arm around Laurent’s shoulders. Laurent is staring down into a red solo cup with a suspicious look on his face. “What’s in this?” he asks.

“I call it ‘griva,’” Makedon says.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You probably don’t want to know, honestly,” Damen says. He moves to take the cup from Laurent, telling Makedon, “It’s okay, he doesn’t really drink--”

“Doesn’t drink!” Makedon says. “Why even come to a party if you’re not going to drink?”

Laurent takes the cup back from Damen. “I’m drinking,” he says. He proceeds to knock back half of the drink in one go, before he has to stop for a breath.

“Ha!” Makedon says. He slaps Laurent on the back hard enough to make him stumble before Damen catches his elbow. “Good man!” Makedon says.

Damen’s had Makedon’s ‘griva’ before, and knows that it’s a potent mix of liquors that should really never have been mixed together. “Are you okay?” he asks Laurent.

“Fine,” Laurent says. He takes another couple sips of the drink, face completely stoic as it goes down.

“You don’t have to drink that,” Damen says.

Makedon has grabbed a pitcher and is filling Laurent’s cup up again.

Laurent’s had two cups of griva and is halfway a third when he discovers the pool table. “You didn’t say you had a pool table,” he says to Damen.

Laurent is drunk enough now that his posture has loosened up and he’s getting more talkative, and Damen’s enjoying every moment of it. “Want me to show you how to play?” Damen asks. It won’t be much of a match with how much they’ve both had to drink.

Laurent raises an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think I don’t know how to play?”

Damen raises his own eyebrow back -- well, actually raises both since he’s never quite gotten the hang of only doing one at the time. “Alright then,” he says, handing Laurent one of the pool cues and moving towards the top of the table to rack up the balls. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” He’s not expecting much coordination, given the careful way Laurent is holding himself to keep from swaying.

Laurent breaks, and manages to send one of the solid balls into a pocket. He proceeds to knock another three in before missing, and Damen’s forced to reexamine his earlier assessment of Laurent’s soberness.

As Damen leans down to line up his own shot, Laurent says, “I’m out of griva.” He pats Damen on his upturned ass and says, “I’m going to go get more.”

Damen misses the shot and swears.

Laurent comes back with another drink and proceeds to completely dominate the game.

“That’s the wrong angle,” he says, as Damen lines up another shot.

Damen looks over at him. “Oh?”

Laurent comes up behind him, slotting his hips behind Damen’s and leaning over him to tug on his arm, adjusting his hold on the cue. “You’re way too tall,” he mutters. Louder, he says, “See, like this. Then it will bounce off that side and into the corner pocket.”

Damen lets Laurent guide his arm back and control the shot. Sure enough, the ball winds up in the opposite corner pocket.

“See, I told you,” Laurent says.

Damen straightens up and twists around, wrapping his arms around Laurent’s waist. “I concede to your superior pool skills.”

“I haven’t won yet,” Laurent says.

Damen leans down to kiss him and Laurent responds immediately by opening his mouth against Damen’s and going up onto his toes to reach better. He tastes like the awful griva, but Damen can’t even bring himself to care. He spins them around so that Laurent is backed up against the table, not breaking the kiss, then uses his grip on Laurent’s waist to lift him up to sit on the edge of the table.

Laurent makes a little surprised noise against Damen’s lips. He pulls back to say, “Now you ruined the game. The balls moved.”

“I don’t care,” Damen says, kissing the corner of Laurent’s mouth and then trailing kisses down his jaw to nuzzle against his neck.

One of Laurent’s hands is in Damen’s hair. “But I was winning,” he says.

“You’re still winning,” Damen tells him, voice muffled against his neck.

Laurent hums in response, but after a few moment his grip tightens on Damen’s hair and he says, “I feel sick.”

Damen pulls back. Laurent’s looking a little green around the edges, swallowing hard. “Are you going to throw up?” Damen asks.

Laurent shakes his head, but looks about a second away from puking on Damen’s shoes, so Damen helps him off the table, leading him back towards the stairs and the bathroom on the second floor.

Makedon stops them on the way there. “This one,” he says, slinging an arm around Laurent’s shoulders, “can drink with the best of them.”

Laurent looks even sicker, and Damen pulls him away from Makedon. “We’re just gonna go upstairs,” he says.

“Oh,” Makedon says. “ _Upstairs_.” He gives Damen an exaggerated wink.

Unfortunately the only thing that happens upstairs is Damen holding Laurent’s hair back while he pukes. He tries not to look at the toilet and rubs a hand against Laurent’s back. “You’ll feel better once it’s all out,” he says.

Laurent groans. “I hate being drunk,” he says.

“First time?” Damen asks. He’s suspected the whole night that Laurent hasn’t had much to drink before, given his willingness to drink Makedon’s swill.

Laurent pulls away, slumping against the cabinets and pressing his forehead against the cool wood. “No. I’ve been drunk before. I don’t like the throwing up part of it.”

Damen leans back against the side of the bathtub. His own buzz has faded significantly in the face of taking care of Laurent. “I didn’t peg you as the type to party hard in high school” he says.

Laurent’s expression shifts, face twisting up into an expression Damen can’t quite name, and he says, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Damen’s not sure what the problem is, but says, “Okay.”

“I don’t want to be drunk anymore,” Laurent says.

“Can’t help you there,” Damen tells him. He levers himself up off the floor, holding a hand down to Laurent. “Are you done being sick? Do you want to go lay down?”

Laurent nods, and Damen winds up having to practically pick him up off the floor. He leads Laurent back to his bedroom and deposits him on the bed. Laurent sits on the edge gingerly, holding onto the mattress like he’s afraid it’s going to dump him off. Damen has to kneel down to tug Laurent’s boots off. “Lay down,” he says.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Laurent says, face suddenly serious as he looks down at Damen.

Damen sits back on his heels and looks up at him. “I didn’t think you were,” he says. Laurent’s way too drunk for Damen to consider fucking him. He likes his partners to be willing. He’s not going to take advantage of someone too drunk to say no.

Damen toes off his own shoes and climbs onto the other side of the bed. “Lay down,” he says again, tugging on Laurent’s arm.

Laurent’s body is stiff, the relaxation that the drink had induced completely gone. The bed is small enough that their shoulders and thighs are touching. Laurent lays on his back, hands resting on his stomach, and stares up at the ceiling. “The room is spinning,” he says.

“That’s just your head,” Damen tells him.

“Make it stop.”

“Go to sleep and it will stop.”

Laurent closes his eyes. It takes awhile before his breathing evens out into sleep. Downstairs, Damen can still hear the sounds of the party going.

\---

Damen’s awoken the next morning by Laurent jerking awake in his arms. At some point in the night Laurent had wound up curled against Damen’s side, using his arm as a pillow, one leg tangled between Damen’s thighs.

“It’s just me,” Damen say soothingly, voice rough from sleep.

Laurent’s half sitting up, eyes darting around the room before finally coming to rest on Damen’s face. He’s breathing hard.

“What happened?”

“You drank too much,” Damen says. “And it’s…” He twists his head around to glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table. “Five in the morning. Go back to sleep.”

It takes another couple of minutes, but Laurent settles himself back down on the bed next to Damen. Damen’s arm is numb from being used as a pillow, but he decides that having Laurent close is worth it.

\---

He walks Laurent back to his dorm later that morning, and returns to find Nikandros eating eggs and surveying the mess in the living room.

“This is the part of having parties that I hate,” Nik says.

“It could be worse,” Damen points out. “Nothing spilled on the couch.”

Nik shrugs, taking another couple of bites while Damen sets about fixing his own greasy breakfast. “So what’s this about you having a boyfriend?” Nik asks.

It’s Damen’s turn to shrug.

“You do know that you were just supposed to fuck him, right? Not start dating him.”

“I’m working on it,” Damen says, ignoring the uncomfortable twist in his stomach at the thought of the bet and focusing on whisking his eggs.

“Did you fuck him last night?”

“Define fucking,” Damen says.

“His ass, your dick. Fucking,” Nik says. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

“No,” Damen says. “He was too drunk.”

“Isn’t that why you got him drunk in the first place?”

Damen turns around. “No, it’s not. I wouldn’t do that.”

Nik eyes him for a moment, then says, “Oh no. You actually _like_ him.”

Damen turns back to his eggs, ignoring Nikandros’ exaggerated sigh behind him. He’s not sure what to do about the bet at this point. Ignore it? It might be the reason he’d first started to really talk with Laurent, but now Damen’s realizing that he _really_ likes Laurent. Damen likes his sarcastic sense of humor and the way he fits perfectly against Damen’s side. He likes spending time with him, whether they’re making out or not. He doesn’t even mind that they haven’t had sex yet, because he could spend the rest of his life kissing Laurent and he doesn’t think he’d ever get sick of it.


	4. November

After the party last month, Damen has an easier time getting Laurent to agree to come over. So far, Netflix and chill has just been Netflix and make-out, but Damen finds that he doesn’t actually mind. Kissing Laurent is amazing.

Nikandros and Makedon have taken to rolling their eyes at him as soon as Laurent leaves, and sometimes while he’s still in the room.

Today, both his roommates are gone and Laurent has agreed to come over and help proofread one of Damen’s essays.

“I thought you said you needed it proofread,” Laurent says, after he arrives to find Damen still working on writing said essay.

“I do,” Damen says. “Just as soon as I finish writing it.”

Laurent shakes his head, but settles on the couch with one of his books for English Lit. “Don’t let me disturb you then,” he says.

Damen just likes having Laurent here, even if they’re both working on different things. He settles down on the floor in front of the couch, notes spread around him, and Laurent’s knee resting against his back.

Damen’s gotten another paragraph written when Laurent pokes him in the shoulder.

“I’m thirsty,” Laurent says.

“I think we have some coke. Or a beer if you want one.”

“Water’s fine,” Laurent says. When Damen doesn’t move he adds, “Aren’t you going to get it for me?”

“You know where the kitchen is.”

Laurent just looks back at him, expression unchanged.

Damen levers himself up off the floor. “Anything else, Your Highness?”

Laurent’s already turned back to his book. “No, that’s all.”

Damen comes back and sets the drinks down on the side table. Laurent is absorbed in his book, so Damen ignores his essay and settles onto the other side of the couch, taking the opportunity to stare at Laurent. His mouth is twisted up just the tiniest bit as he reads, lashes lowered as his eyes scan across the page. His hair is loose, falling in soft waves just above his shoulders.

“You’re staring,” Laurent says, eyes still glued to his book.

“You’re very nice to stare at,” Damen tells him.

“Hmm.” Laurent keeps his focus on his book, and doesn’t look up until Damen reaches for one of his ankles, tugging his leg out straight. “What are you doing?” he asks.

Instead of answering, Damen levers himself up onto his knees, then leans forward, bracing one hand on the back of the couch and the other on the arm, caging Laurent in.

Laurent lets his book fall, open, against his chest, looking up at Damen. “I’m reading,” he says, before bringing his book back up in front of his face.

Damen rests his chin on the top of the book and bears down, until Laurent looks back up at him.

“You’re impossible,” Laurent says. He lets the book fall back against his chest and Damen grins in triumph before leaning down to kiss him.

Laurent tilts his head obligingly, and Damen lets his teeth slide over Laurent’s bottom lip, teasing it until Laurent opens his mouth and Damen can lick his way inside.

Laurent makes a small noise at that, raising one arm to wrap over Damen’s shoulder. Damen keeps kissing him, sucking Laurent’s bottom lip between his own.

Laurent slides down the couch a bit and Damen follows him, until he’s forced to move his hand off the back of the couch and brace it against the cushion, making sure to hold himself up. This is one of the times that Damen is viscerally aware of how much bigger he is than Laurent, and he’s careful to keep from crushing him.

Laurent still has one knee pulled up, and his legs are spread invitingly. Damen shifts his thigh between them, until he’s brushing against Laurent’s cock through their pants. Laurent sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers gripping the back of Damen’s shirt and holding it tightly.

Damen trails his kisses down Laurent’s chin and along his jaw, until he’s sucking a hickey onto his neck. Laurent tilts his head back, his other hand winding its way into Damen’s hair. Damen shifts his leg again, this time grinding his own hips down against Laurent, and the small noise that startles out of Laurent makes him smile against his skin. Damen pulls back a bit, looking down at Laurent’s face. His hair is like a golden halo spread across the couch cushion and his cheeks are flushed.

“You’re staring again,” Laurent says softly. His tongue darts out to lick his lip, and Damen really can’t stop himself from bending down to follow it with his own tongue.

Laurent wiggles under him, and Damen’s about to ask what he’s doing, but then Laurent gets his other leg out from under Damen’s so that he can wrap his knees around Damen’s waist and tilt his hips up.

The angle’s perfect, and Damen groans against Laurent’s lips. He can feel Laurent’s answering smile, before Damen grinds down and it turns into a gasp.

They keep that up, just kissing and moving against each other, until Damen has to pull back.

“What’s wrong?” Laurent asks, frowning.

“I’m about to come in my pants,” Damen says.

“Oh.” Laurent looks surprised by this, but recovers quickly. “I could, um, get you off. With my hand.”

Damen stares at him, trying to make his brain form words.

Laurent’s expression shifts a bit. “Or not. If you don’t--”

“No! I mean yes! I mean, I really want you to,” Damen stammers out.

Laurent gives him a small smile, then pushes at Damen’s shoulders to force him back, until Damen’s slouched on the other side of the couch and Laurent is leaning over him, hands already working at the button of Damen’s jeans.

He gets them open and gets the zipper down and then his hand is squeezing Damen’s cock through his boxers, and Damen can see the wet spot that’s formed already. Laurent strokes him a few times through the fabric until Damen makes a slight noise of protest, then he slips his hand under the waistband.

Laurent is surprisingly good at giving a hand job. He squeezes on the downstroke and twists his wrist just right over the head, gathering up the precome there and spreading it down the rest of Damen’s cock.

Damen lasts an embarrassingly short amount of time before he’s coming all over Laurent’s hand and his own t-shirt. Through his post-orgasm haze, Damen watches Laurent grimace at his hand before wiping it off on Damen’s shirt.

Damen reaches for Laurent, pulling him forwards until he winds up sprawled across Damen’s legs so that Damen can kiss him. After a moment, Laurent relaxes and starts kissing back.

Damen smooths his hand over Laurent’s back, trailing it down his side until he’s holding onto Laurent’s hip. “I want to suck you off,” Damen tells him.

Laurent pulls back in surprise. “What?”

“I want to give you a blow job,” Damen says again.

Laurent’s staring at him, eyebrows raised. Finally he says, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Damen leans in to kiss him again, just a peck, before asking, “Don’t you want me to?”

“I…”

Damen adjusts their position until Laurent is lying back on the couch again and reaches for the zip on Laurent’s pants.

“Wait,” Laurent says, grabbing Damen’s wrists and squeezing tightly.

Damen looks up at him, and there’s something panicky about Laurent’s expression that makes Damen freeze. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“You don't have--”

“I want to,” Damen tells him again. “Or, I mean, if you don’t want me to I can give you a handjob too. Or whatever you want. But I _really_ want to suck your cock.”

“I’m not going to suck yours,” Laurent says.

“I don’t care.”

After a moment that seems to stretch forever, Laurent says, “Okay.”

Laurent’s only half hard by the time Damen gets his pants shoved down his hips, and Damen spends a couple minutes stroking him back to full hardness. When he glances up, it’s to find Laurent propped up on his elbows, watching Damen closely.

Which is why Damen makes a show of it, taking the tip of Laurent’s cock into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks as he sucks hard. Laurent falls back onto the couch with a groan, and if he could, Damen would grin.

He pulls back and trails sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down Laurent’s cock, nosing at his pubic hair and licking a stripe across his balls. Laurent makes a strangled sound, and Damen looks up. Laurent has one hand over his mouth, muffling any sounds he’s making.

Damen reaches up for his arm, tugging lightly at his elbow. “I want to hear you,” he says. 

Laurent shakes his head, not moving his hand, and rather than push the issue Damen goes back to work on his cock.

It takes Laurent a long time to come, almost like he’s fighting against it. By the time he tugs on Damen’s hair, saying, “Damen…” Damen feels like his jaw is going to fall off. He strokes him through the last of it, until Laurent is spilling over his hand.

Damen’s shirt is already a lost cause, so he wipes his hand off on it and sits up so that he can kiss Laurent.

Laurent pushes him away, making a face at the taste of himself on Damen’s tongue.

\---

They wind up spending most of their time in Laurent’s dorm, since his roommate is never there.

“He has a new boyfriend,” Laurent explains.

“Oh. Good for him,” Damen says.

“You haven't met his boyfriend.”

There are only two places to sit in Laurent’s tiny room, unless they steal his roommate’s chair, so Damen winds up sprawled across Laurent’s bed while Laurent sits at his desk, typing away furiously at his laptop.

“Is that essay due before break?” Damen asks.

“No,” Laurent says.

“Then why are you working on it?”

Laurent keeps typing, finishing whatever thought he’d had, before twisting around in his chair to look at Damen. “I want to get it done so I can finish my English and poli sci essays during break.”

“Aren’t you going home?”

Laurent laughs, but it’s more of a scoff. “It’s bad enough that they shut everything down and I have to go back for winter break. I’m definitely not going when I don’t have to.”

Damen frowns. The most Laurent has said about his home life is that his parents and older brother died in a car crash, and he grew up living with his uncle. While he hasn’t said much else, he’s also never mentioned anything that would inspire this vehemence about returning home. “Why not?” Damen asks.

“Why would I?”

“Because,” Damen says, “it’s Thanksgiving. Everyone goes home for Thanksgiving.”

“Well, not me,” Laurent says, turning back to his laptop.

Damen looks back at his own textbook for a while, but doesn’t actually read anything.

“I could stay here with you,” Damen offers eventually.

“I thought you said everyone goes home for Thanksgiving,” Laurent says, turning to look at him.

Damen shrugs. “To be honest, I wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway. My brother’s dating my ex-girlfriend.”

Laurent looks surprised. “That’s, um… slightly dysfunctional.”

“They’ll both be there, and it’ll be awkward. And I’d miss you.”

“You would?”

“Of course I would,” Damen says. “But hey, I can stay here and we’ll make our own holiday.” He smiles at Laurent. “It’ll be fun.”

“You don’t have to stay just because I am,” Laurent says, giving Damen that expression he always does, like he’s trying to figure out what makes Damen tick.

“I told you, I want to. Going home is going to be horrible. We can still get your essays done over break.”

“You mean I can get them done,” Laurent says. “You end your sentences with prepositions. I don’t want you anywhere near my essays.”

Damen grabs a post-it note and balls it up, tossing it at Laurent. It bounces off his forehead and Laurent’s stunned expression makes Damen start laughing uncontrollably.

\---

Damen has the house to himself over break, so he invites Laurent over to stay. “It’s better than staying in an empty dorm,” he says.

Laurent packs an entire carry-on suitcase for the weekend, and when Damen points out that they’re only ten minutes away from campus if he needs anything, Laurent just pushes the suitcase towards Damen and says, “Take this upstairs.”

Laurent decides that they should try actually cooking something for Thanksgiving, and going with him to grocery store is an experience that Damen never wants to repeat.

“Can you even cook?” he asks, leaning against the cart as Laurent inspects potatoes.

“I’ve watched Food Network,” Laurent says. “It doesn’t look that hard.”

Famous last words, Damen thinks, which proves to be true since the turkey Laurent cooks is the driest meat Damen’s ever eaten. He keeps eating it anyway, saying, “This is delicious.”

Laurent frowns at him. “You don’t have to keep eating it, honestly.”

“But it’s good,” Damen says.

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, but you made it for me.”

Laurent laughs a bit. “You’re kind of hopeless, you know that?” 

It’s the same thing Nikandros has been saying all month.

\---

Laurent doesn’t complain when Damen wants to watch football and drink beer, a Thanksgiving tradition as far as Damen’s concerned, and settles next to him on the couch. Damen spreads his arm out on the back of the couch and Laurent leans against him.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Laurent says. “You didn’t have to.”

Damen ignores the second part of that. “I’m glad I did too. This is way better than dealing with my brother.”

“Anything’s better than dealing with my uncle,” Laurent says, expression darkening.

“Is he dating your ex-girlfriend too?” Damen asks, overly sympathetic.

That startles a laugh out of Laurent, who stops himself just as abruptly, like he shouldn’t be laughing, and steals a sip of Damen’s beer.

Eventually, Laurent asks, “Do you actually like either of these teams?”

Damen frowns. “Well, no, but it’s Thanksgiving and it’s football. The teams playing don’t really matter.”

Laurent leans more heavily against him. “I just mean, if you don’t care about either of the teams then I’m sure we could find something better to do.”

Damen twists around so that he can look down at Laurent. “What did you have in mind?”

Laurent grips Damen’s collar to pull him down into a kiss. It’s open mouthed and messy and when he pulls back, he says, quietly, “Something like that.”

“This is definitely better than football,” Damen says, leaning down to kiss Laurent again.

Laurent lets himself fall backwards, and Damen follows him, until they’re both stretched out on the couch. Laurent’s knees come up on either side of Damen’s hips as Damen grinds down against him, and Laurent cants his hips up to meet him.

Damen kisses against Laurent’s throat, paying particular attention to a spot that causes Laurent to make the most amazing noises, gasping moans that he seems startled by. One of Laurent’s hands is on Damen’s back, cool against his skin. The other is tangled in Damen’s hair, caught in his curls.

Laurent tugs a bit on his hair, directing him back up to kiss again. “We should go upstairs,” Laurent says, voice muffled against Damen’s lips.

Damen pulls back so that he can look down at Laurent.

Laurent gives him a small smile, then pushes at Damen’s shoulders. “Come on, up.”

Damen sits up, then stands as Laurent nudges him with a knee. Once Laurent’s on his feet, he takes Damen’s hand and starts tugging him towards the stairs.

Damen follows, still feeling a bit stunned. He _thinks_ he’s reading this situation correctly, and that Laurent wants to go upstairs so they can have sex, but he could be wrong. Maybe Laurent just wants to go to bed. Maybe he wants to make out in bed instead of on the couch. Maybe he wants to work on his essays some more. Maybe he wants to criticize Damen’s decorating skills again.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Laurent says, once they’re in Damen’s room. He pushes Damen up against the wall, hands settling on Damen’s hips as he leans up on his toes, breath warm against Damen’s lips.

“I’m not thinking anything,” Damen says.

“Really?” Laurent slides his hands down to palm Damen’s ass and pull their hips closer together. “Nothing at all?”

Damen tries to think of what the right thing to say is.

He takes too long, and Laurent says, “Because I was thinking that I want you to fuck me.”

Damen’s brain short circuits again. “I… You do?”

“Yes,” Laurent says. He tilts his head as he looks up at Damen, a slight smirk pulling at his lips.

Damen can't help but kiss him again.

Laurent doesn't break the kiss, but does fist his hand in Damen’s shirt and start walking backwards, pulling him towards the bed. He drops down to sit on the edge, and Damen follows him, pressing Laurent back onto the mattress.

Laurent scoots backward until he’s lying in the middle of the bed, and Damen crawls after him. “You're sure?” he asks, hovering over Laurent.

Laurent’s hair is a mess, haloed around his head. He rolls his eyes. “I said I wanted to, didn't I?” He tugs at Damen’s shirt. “Take this off.”

Damen sits up on his knees to pull his shirt off, dropping it off the edge of the bed. He shoves at Laurent’s shirt, rucking it up under his arms and splaying his hands over Laurent’s abs. He can feel goosebumps raise on Laurent’s skin at the touch.

Laurent sits up and tugs his shirt over his head. He tosses it over Damen’s shoulder, then reaches for Damen’s jeans. “Now these. Can't exactly fuck if you're wearing pants.”

“We could probably find a way,” Damen says, as Laurent unzips him and shoves his pants down his thighs. Damen has to stand up to take them all the way off, and shoves his boxers down at the same time.

Laurent’s seen his cock before, but that doesn't stop Damen from preening a bit as he catches Laurent staring. Laurent undoes his own pants and Damen tugs them off him, then tugs his socks off too. He takes a moment to try and commit how Laurent looks right now to memory -- limbs splayed out on the bed, hair in disarray, smooth pale skin glowing a bit in the soft light from the lamp.

He spends too long just looking, and Laurent sits up a bit. “What are you doing?” Laurent asks.

“You’re beautiful,” Damen tells him.

The flush on Laurent’s cheeks extends down his chest. He reaches out for Damen’s hand, tugging lightly to pull him back onto the bed. “Are you just going to look or are you going to do something about it?”

Damen laces their fingers together as he climbs back on the bed, slotting his knees between Laurent’s spread thighs and pressing their clasped hands to the mattress above Laurent’s head before leaning down to kiss him. Laurent tugs a bit, testing the hold, but doesn’t try to pull away. His free hand runs over Damen’s back, nails scratching lightly.

“You do have lube, right?” Laurent asks, voice a little breathless as Damen kisses the corner of his mouth, then his jaw.

“In the nightstand,” Damen says. He keeps kissing along Laurent’s jaw.

Laurent tugs on their joined hands until Damen lets go. “Get the lube,” he says.

Damen doesn’t want to stop kissing Laurent, but after another quick kiss to his lips he sits up, reaching across the bed to fumble the nightstand drawer open and grab the little tube of lube inside and a condom. Laurent rolls over and gets his knees under him, bracing himself on his elbows. Damen finds himself staring at Laurent’s ass, unable to look away. Like the rest of him, Laurent’s ass is perfect.

Laurent looks over his shoulder. “What is taking you so long?”

“I’m trying to remember this,” Damen says.

“Remember… You do know how to have sex, don’t you?”

Damen laughs. “I meant what you look like.”

“With my ass in the air?”

“In my bed,” Damen says. He runs a hand up Laurent’s thigh to his butt, kneading the muscle and spreading Laurent open a bit.  He can see the pink furl of Laurent’s hole, and lifts his other hand to brush over it.

Laurent makes a small noise.

Damen pops open the cap on the lube and squeezes some out onto his fingers, rubbing them together so that it won’t be cold. He strokes over and around Laurent’s hole again, then presses the tip of his thumb inside.

Laurent spreads his thighs a bit further.

Damen keeps fingering him, working first one and then two fingers in. Laurent is hot and tight around him. Damen works him open until he can fit three fingers in, crooking them a bit, and Laurent makes a keening noise before pressing his hand against his mouth, muffling it.

Damen strokes over Laurent’s back with his other hand. “Relax,” he says.

“I’m relaxed,” Laurent says, even though he really isn’t. Damen can see the tension in his back, and presses a bit harder against the muscles, trying to sooth him.

“If you don’t--”

“If you ask me one more time whether I want to do this or not I’m walking out,” Laurent says, twisting around to look at Damen again. “I’m not some blushing virgin. I said I want you to fuck me, and I meant I want you to _fuck. Me_.” 

“Alright,” Damen says. He pulls his fingers out, rips the condom open and rolls it on, then reaches for the lube to spread more over his cock. He takes hold of Laurent’s hips, urging him to roll over. “I want to see you,” he says.

Laurent falls onto his back, shifting until his legs are on either side of Damen’s. Damen takes hold of one of his legs, lifting it a bit, and is surprised by Laurent’s flexibility when he lifts it further himself, hooking his knee over Damen’s shoulder.

Damen nearly loses himself when he presses inside Laurent. It’s hot and tight and slick and Damen can’t help the deep groan that comes from his throat. Laurent urges him forward, heel digging into his back.

Damen keeps pressing in until he can’t go any further. Laurent is wincing a bit under him. “Are you alright?” Damen asks.

Laurent nods. “I’m fine.”

Damen holds himself still, even though every fiber in his body is crying out to move. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he tells Laurent. He runs one hand along Laurent’s ribs.

Finally Laurent says, “Alright.”

Damen kisses Laurent’s shoulder as he pulls back, nearly all the way out before slowly pushing in again. The pace he sets is slow and steady, as gentle as he can be when he’s fucking into Laurent. He laces their fingers together again, pressing Laurent’s hand down against the mattress.

Laurent is breathing hard, flushed, and when Damen meets his eyes they’re blown wide, just a rim of blue left around the pupil.

Damen leans down to kiss him, which shifts the angle of their hips. On the next stroke in, Damen hits Laurent’s prostate and Laurent lets out a loud moan, lost into the kiss. Damen makes sure to keep the same angle, and Laurent’s breathing picks up. Damen can feel his heart beating wildly everywhere their bodies touch. He lets go of Laurent’s hand to reach for his cock where it’s hard and leaking against his stomach, and strokes firmly in time to his thrusts.

His orgasm, when it hits, is a bit of a surprise. It’s been building so slowly, a perfect bit of tension, and Damen jerks his hips against Laurent’s hard as he comes.

When he can think clearly he realizes that Laurent still hasn’t come. He pulls out, earning a wince from Laurent, and scoots down the bed to settle between Laurent’s thighs. He lets out a warm breath against Laurent’s cock before kissing the tip of it. He licks around the head, stroking over the shaft. When he glances up he sees that Laurent has his head tipped back, hands fisted in the blanket under him.

Damen’s sucked Laurent’s cock a couple of times now, and he loves it everytime. It never fails to shatter the careful composure that Laurent normally displays.

Laurent warns him before he comes, and Damen pulls off to stroke him through the last of it, until Laurent is spilling over his hand.

Damen collapses next to Laurent on the bed, and they both lie there breathlessly for a few minutes. When Laurent start to roll over, legs moving towards the edge of the bed, Damen catches his hand and pulls him back. “Where are you going?”

“To clean up,” Laurent says. “I’ll be right back.”

Damen lets him go, admiring the view as Laurent walks naked towards the door. He returns a minute later with a damp washcloth and runs it over Damen’s cock and thighs before setting it on the nightstand.

“Come back to bed,” Damen says. He squirms around to kick the soiled blanket down to the bottom of the mattress, then some more until he’s able to get under the sheets. He holds up the edge, and Laurent climbs in.

Damen pulls Laurent against him, and Laurent settles against his side like he was always meant to be there.

\---

Nikandros and Makedon have both gone home, and Damen and Laurent take advantage of having the place to themselves for the rest of the weekend. When Nikandros gets back on Sunday it’s to find them both sprawled on the couch. Damen’s lying half on top of Laurent, head pillowed on his stomach, while Laurent has a book propped open on his chest. Damen’s feeling pretty good about life in general right now. He just had sex with Laurent this morning, and now he’s got Sunday night football to watch and Laurent’s hand stroking through his hair. Not even Nik standing in the doorway and saying, sarcastically, “You two look cozy,” messes with his good mood.

At least, not until Laurent looks up and says, “What time is it?”

The game’s in the third quarter, so Damen says, “Around ten thirty?”

Laurent closes his book and sets it on the coffee table before nudging Damen with a knee. “I should head back to my dorm.”

Damen wraps his arms around Laurent’s waist. “No. Stay.”

Laurent laughs. “I didn’t pack enough to stay tonight. And I have an eight o’clock class.”

“Don’t care,” Damen says, turning his face against Laurent’s stomach.

“Well, I do,” Laurent says. “Let me up.”

Damen lets go reluctantly, standing up and offering Laurent a hand up. He offers to walk Laurent back to his dorm, but Laurent insists he’ll be fine and gives him a kiss before leaving.

Nik wanders in a few minutes later, asking, “Is he gone?”

“Yeah.”

“So did you finally do it?”

“Do what?”

“Fuck him, of course. You did, didn’t you?”

Damen’s good mood abruptly evaporates. The bet. Right. He’d actually managed to forget about it entirely over the past couple of weeks, but the sense of guilt comes back now full force, making his stomach clench up painfully.

“How was it?” Nik asks.

_Amazing_ , Damen thinks, remembering the way Laurent had looked spread out under him, hair in complete disarray and expression of something like wonder and astonishment on his face. Remembering the way Laurent had curled up in his arms after and said, ‘I didn’t know… didn’t think it could be like this.’

Nik finds his answer in Damen’s silence. “You’re not really in love with him, are you?”

Damen still doesn’t answer.

“It was supposed to be a bet,” Nik reminds him. “You were just supposed to fuck the ice queen and then be done with him. Do you want that car or not?”

“I know it was a bet,” Damen says. “But he’s--” He breaks off, catching a flash of movement in the hallway behind Nik. “Shit.”

Damen shoves past Nik, ignoring his protest, and finds Laurent in the hallway, hand on the knob of the front door. “Laurent,” he says. “What’re you…”

Laurent turns to him, and his face is a blank mask but Damen can see that he’s breathing hard. “Your door was open,” he says, not meeting Damen’s eyes. “I forgot my phone charger.”

“Oh, um. Did you leave it upstairs?” Damen asks. Maybe Laurent didn’t hear anything, he thinks. Maybe he can fix this, pretend there never was a bet and keep this new thing he’s found with Laurent. Maybe he hasn’t ruined everything by revealing the truth.

Nik’s hovering behind them. “Hey Laurent,” he says. “Did you… um, y’know what, I’m just gonna go… leave you two alone.”

“No, stay,” Laurent says, glancing at him before fixing his eyes on Damen. He meets his eyes this time and Damen’s never seen them look so cold, not even back at the beginning of semester. He wants to shrink away from that look. “What bet was he talking about?” Laurent asks.

“Nothing,” Damen says. “It’s just--”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.”

“It was just a stupid-- Look, it doesn’t matter.” Damen takes a step towards Laurent, and Laurent tries to step back but hits the door. Damen stops.

“What was the bet?” Laurent asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Damen doesn’t answer, so he turns to Nik. “Nikandros, what was the bet?”

Nik raises his hands. “Look, you two should sort this out.”

“I’ll guess then,” Laurent says, voice clipped. “You had a bet that Damen here couldn’t get me to bend over for him.”

“Um…” Nik says.

“Laurent,” Damen says, desperate to make this stop.

“Did he tell you he won?” Laurent asks Nik, eyes still drilling into Damen. His voice is light, curious. “What were the stakes?”

“Um…” Nik says again.

“I’d like to know what I’m worth,” Laurent says.

Nik swallows hard before saying, “He gets my car next semester.”

“The vintage Mustang?”

Nik nods.

“Well,” Laurent says. “At least I know you didn’t think I was a _cheap_ whore.” Then he’s out the door, leaving it to slam shut behind him with a bang that makes Damen jump.

“Damen…” Nik says. “I didn’t... I didn’t know he was there. I swear.”

Damen’s already halfway out the door. Laurent is at the bottom of the steps, dragging his suitcase behind him.

“Laurent, wait!”

Laurent ignores him, walking down the sidewalk.

Damen runs to catch up and manages to snag the sleeve of Laurent’s coat, pulling him to a stop. “Would you just--”

“Don’t touch me,” Laurent snarls, jerking away from Damen. He turns around again, walking away.

Damen winds up walking backwards next to him, using the advantage of having longer legs to keep up with Laurent’s brisk pace. “Look, that wasn’t--”

Laurent stops suddenly, glaring up at Damen. “Wasn’t what? Wasn’t a bet? Wasn’t a joke?” He shakes his head, and says quietly, “I should have…” Then, louder, “What did you think this was, anyway? Did you think I was in love with you, that one taste of your cock would have me throwing myself into your arms, begging you to stay forever? It was fun while it lasted, Damianos, but I honestly couldn’t care less what you and your frat boy buddies get up to. Now stop following me.”

“You’re lying,” Damen says. “I know you and I know you care.”

“You don’t know me at all,” Laurent says. He pushes past Damen and stalks off down the street.


	5. December

Laurent doesn’t answer any of Damen’s texts or calls, to the point that Damen suspects Laurent has blocked his number -- all his phone calls are going straight to voicemail. They have their lecture class for chemistry together on Monday, but as soon as Damen sits down Laurent gets up and moves across the room. Damen tries to talk to him after class but Laurent disappears into the crowd before he gets a chance.

They still have to work together in their lab class, Damen reassures himself. Laurent can’t avoid him there. Damen will be able to apologize and fix everything.

But Laurent is back to his old self during lab, like the past three months have never happened.

“You can’t just ignore me,” Damen says, after all his attempts at conversation have been rebuffed.

“Can’t I?” Laurent says.

“That bet didn’t mean anything,” Damen tells him.

Laurent frowns at him in mock sympathy. “Are you not enjoying your new car?”

“I don’t even care about the stupid car,” Damen says.

“Pity.”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Damen tries.

Laurent stares at him for a long moment, and Damen wishes he could tell what he was thinking. There’s no hint on his face of what’s going on underneath.

“Pass me that flask, if you want to be useful,” Laurent says.

\---

Laurent flat out doesn’t show up for their next lab class. Damen tries asking the TA overseeing the lab if Laurent is sick, but gets a shrug in response. 

After class, he stops by Laurent’s dorm. The door is answered by his roommate, Jord.

“Hey,” Damen says. “I’m looking for Laurent. Is he here?”

Jord glances over his shoulder, but says, “No.”

“He’s in there, isn’t he?”

“No,” Jord says. Damen tries to look over his shoulder, but Jord blocks the opening of the door with his body.

“Look, I just wanted to make sure he was okay. He didn’t show up for class.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Jord says. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

Damen sighs, but takes that for the dismissal that it is.

He sees Laurent in their lecture the next week, but the next day he’s missing from lab again and Damen winds up having to do everything himself.

He’d be more annoyed about it if he didn’t feel so guilty.

\---

Laurent never does return to their lab class. He’s in the lectures and at the final, so Damen knows he’s okay, but he skips all the few remaining labs where Damen would actually have a chance to talk to him.

When the end of semester finally comes, Damen still hasn’t been able to talk to Laurent. At this point, he just wants to apologize. He’s an asshole and he knows it and he’s not sure what it will take to make this up to Laurent, but he’s willing to do anything. He _misses_ Laurent. He misses spending time with him and talking with him and, yes, having sex with him.

Five days into winter break, he can’t take it anymore and decides he needs to do something about it. He knows the name of the town where Laurent lives, but nothing else. It takes a lot of searching before he finds an address, and it’s on the other side of the country. 

When Damen tells Nik he’s taking off on a cross country road trip Nik just looks at him and says, “I’m not going with you.”

“Of course you're not,” Damen says. “This whole thing is your fault.”

“And you’re not taking my car.”

“I never want to see your car again in my life,” Damen tells him, vehemently. His desire for that car is what caused half of this trouble in the first place. Not even half, really. Damen can admit that his own idiocy is what caused this trouble.

“You never even would have gotten to know him if not for that bet,” Nik points out.

“I also wouldn't have lost him,” Damen says.

\---

Damen sits in his car across the street from Laurent’s house for a long time. It’s a nice neighborhood. A mother walks by pushing a stroller and trying to hang onto a dog. The trees are bare, but Damen can tell that they shadow the street during the other seasons and probably look gorgeous in the fall. Eventually, another car drives past and turns into Laurent’s driveway. A middle-aged man with a beard gets out and heads for the front door.

_Shit_ , Damen thinks. He’d meant to talk to Laurent alone, but that must be Laurent’s uncle.

He pulls out his phone and texts Nik: _his uncle just got home_.

It takes a couple minutes for Nik to reply: _are u sitting outside his house?_

_yes_ , Damen texts back.

Nik’s next reply is fast. _just go talk to him. you drove across the country for him he should at least let you say hi._

So Damen steels himself, gets out of the car, and walks across the street. He hesitates when it comes to actually ringing the doorbell, then forces himself to go through with it.

The door is opened by Laurent’s uncle, who’s frowning at Damen. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any,” he says, instead of hello.

“I’m looking for Laurent,” Damen says. When that just gets him a raised eyebrow -- it must be a family trait -- Damen sticks out his hand. “I’m Damen. I don’t know if he’s mentioned me or not…”

“He hasn’t,” Laurent’s uncle says, looking him up and down before shaking his hand. He steps back to let Damen inside.

Damen expects him to call for Laurent, or lead him to where Laurent is, but instead Laurent’s uncle just keeps looking at him. “Laurent doesn’t have many friends,” he says.

Damen shoves his hands in his pockets. “Sure he does,” he says, feeling the need to defend Laurent. “At school, anyway.” Which isn’t quite true, but Laurent’s apparently friendly enough with his roommate now to get him to lie for him, so he does have at least one friend.

There’s a noise on the stairs, and Damen turns to find Laurent standing at the top of them. He walks halfway down, staring at Damen. He actually looks shocked, which is enough of a rarity to surprise Damen as well.

“What are you doing here?” Laurent asks.

Before Damen can answer, Laurent’s uncle says, “You didn’t tell me you’d invited friends over, Laurent.”

“I didn’t--” Laurent starts to say.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Laurent’s uncle asks. He smiles at Damen. “Laurent’s never invited a boyfriend over either. I’ve been feeling rather hurt that he doesn’t want me to meet them.”

Something about the intense scrutiny Laurent’s uncle is giving him is making Damen feel supremely uncomfortable. He shifts his weight, looking up at Laurent. “I just wanted to talk,” he says.

Laurent’s frowning at him. “How did you get here?”

“I drove.”

“You _drove_?” Laurent asks.

Damen nods. “Yeah, it was kind of long.” Which is an understatement, but he doesn’t need to say that to Laurent.

“Breaking in your shiny new car?” Laurent asks, sarcastic.

“You should come downstairs and say a proper hello to your friend, Laurent,” Laurent’s uncle says.

Laurent looks back and forth between his uncle and Damen for a moment, then makes his way down the rest of the stairs. “Hello, Damen,” he says, stiffly.

“Hi,” Damen says.

Laurent’s uncle claps them both on the shoulder, and Damen only notices that Laurent flinches because he’s watching closely. “You boys should go out,” Laurent’s uncle says. “Have fun.” He smiles at Damen, and Damen forces a smile back at him.

“I’ll get my coat,” Laurent says, shrugging out from under his uncle’s hand and heading back upstairs. He returns quickly, shrugging into his coat, and by the time he reaches the door he has it buttoned up. “Let’s go,” he says to Damen.

Damen hurries after him.

Once they’re outside, Laurent shoves his hands in his pockets. Damen can see his breath fogging in the air.

“So,” he says. “Your uncle is kind of…”

Laurent just looks back at him silently.

“Weird,” Damen finishes.

Laurent remains silent.

“Is there, um, someplace we can go to talk?” Damen asks.

“You want to talk?” Laurent asks.

“Yes,” Damen says.

“And if I don’t?”

Damen isn’t sure what to say to that. Before he can come up with anything, Laurent says, “There’s a coffee shop.” He indicates the direction with his shoulder. After a glance back at the house, he says, “Come on.”

Laurent leads the way, and they’re both quiet on the walk there. Damen keeps wanting to say something, but everytime he tries the words get stuck in his throat. It’s not until they’ve placed their orders and go to pay that Damen manages to say something directly to Laurent, and what he says is, “I’ll get it.”

“I can buy my own coffee,” Laurent says, handing over a credit card to the barista.

Damen bites his tongue, and doesn’t say anything other than thanks to the barista as he pays for his own coffee.

Laurent picks a table in the corner, next to a window. He doesn’t take his coat off, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. He’s looking out the window instead of at Damen, and it’s not until Damen says his name that Laurent turns to him.

“I’m sorry,” Damen says, because he’s been thinking of saying it for nearly a month now and he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s imagined this conversation a million times, and it always starts with saying he’s sorry.

“For what?” Laurent asks.

“You know for what.”

“I want you to say it.”

Damen takes a sip of his drink to stall. It’s still too hot and burns his tongue, making him sputter. Laurent watches him impassively.

“I’m sorry for fucking everything up,” Damen says. “It was stupid, and that bet didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean the rest of it wasn’t real.”

Laurent still has his arms crossed.

“I…” Damen tries to think of what else to say. He’d had this all planned out during the days he spent driving here. He’d say he was sorry for everything and that he loved Laurent, and Laurent would say he loved Damen too and forgive him and Damen would kiss him and none of it would matter anymore. But now that he’s here he can see that plan for the fantasy that it was. Laurent isn’t going to fall into his arms. Damen’s fucked it up too badly to fix with a couple of words.

Finally he just asks, “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything,” Laurent says. “I’m perfectly content to never speak to you again. You’re the one who drove all the way across the country.”

“You dropped chem,” Damen says. “Or the lab portion, at least.”

Laurent inclines his head a bit, acknowledging this.

“Just to avoid me?”

Laurent doesn’t answer. Damen sits back, running a hand through his hair and huffing in frustration. “Look, I want to fix this. I want… Do you hate me now?”

Laurent fixes his gaze on something out the window. Damen stares at his profile, noticing the firm set of Laurent’s jaw, the way he’s blinking just a bit too much. “I really want to hate you,” Laurent says, not looking at him.

It takes Damen a moment to parse through that. “But you don’t…”

Laurent just shakes his head, and Damen’s still not sure whether that was a yes or a no. When he finally looks at Damen, he’s biting at his bottom lip. Damen wants to reach out and stop him, smooth his thumb over where Laurent has has bitten down.

“I hate your stupid hoodies,” Laurent says, and it’s so far from what Damen was expecting him to say that he can’t hide his surprise. Laurent keeps going, “They make you look sloppy. And I hate your stupid jock friends. And I hate how you always stare at me. I hate that you make me laugh, and make me want--”

“I’m in love with you,” Damen says, because it’s true.

Laurent’s surprise is evident on his face.

“I am,” Damen continues. And now the words are coming out of him in a rush. “I love you and I miss you and this past month without you has been the worst in my life and I’m _sorry_. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry I didn’t tell Nik that the _stupid_ bet was off as soon as I really talked to you, because you deserve so much better. I started talking to you because of the bet but I swear it wasn’t always about that, because once I really knew you I couldn’t help but love you.” He takes a deep breath. Laurent is still staring at him silently.

“Say something, would you?” Damen asks.

“I don’t know how you can say you love me,” Laurent says. He’s schooled his expression into stillness, but he can’t seem to settle his eyes in one spot, gaze darting over Damen’s face, and Damen can see his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

“Because I _do_. I love everything about you,” Damen says. Laurent shakes his head, disbelieving, so Damen keeps going. “I love the way you order people around. I love the way you try so hard to keep from showing any emotion but your eyes always give you away. I love the way you complain about your hair getting in your face but refuse to cut it. I love the way you look when you’re reading, like everything else has melted away and you’re lost in the world in the book. I love your fancy handwriting and your layers of clothes and--”

“Stop,” Laurent says, voice strangled.

Damen reaches out for Laurent’s hands, easing them from clutching his cup and holding them in his own. Laurent doesn’t resist. His hands are warm from the cup and look pale and delicate against Damen’s own. Damen waits, watching his face, and when Laurent finally looks up and meets his eyes he says, “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I promise to never do it again.”

Laurent takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling, and says, “You’re an idiot, Damianos. You can’t promise that.”

“I can try. If you’ll let me.”

“You…” Laurent looks at a loss for words, which is a first. Then he pulls his hands from Damen’s and before Damen can protest, he’s grabbed Damen’s shirt and pulled him forward across the table, smashing their lips together.

It takes Damen a moment to react, then he’s kissing back, tongue brushing over Laurent’s lip as he stands up so that he can lean forward further and get closer.

“You forgive me?” Damen asks, pulling back just enough to talk.

“I guess,” Laurent says. “You still need to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do anything,” Damen says.

Laurent kisses him again, and Damen lets himself focus just on the kiss. On the way Laurent’s lips feel against his, the tease of his tongue, the rush of desire as Laurent pulls Damen’s bottom lip between his teeth. He pulls Laurent up from his chair, so that he can wrap his arms around him and hold him closer.

Suddenly something knocks into the back of Damen’s head, hard. He jerks away from Laurent, spinning around. There’s a fork lying on the ground, and beyond that the teenaged barista who’d taken their orders earlier is glaring at them with his arms crossed.

“Are you two finished?” the boy asks. “You apologized, he took you back. _Some_ of us are trying to work here.”

Laurent starts laughing, and Damen finds himself grinning as well. Laurent’s forgiven him, and he feels happy for the first time in a month, like everything is back to where it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for reading and for the kudos and reviews! This has been a very fun first foray into Captive Prince fandom, and I plan to stick around for awhile. If you want to chat, come say hi on tumblr. I'm [niniblack](http://niniblack.tumblr.com/) over there as well.


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